


When Hope is Lost

by Ozymanreis



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crying, Denial, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Seeking Solace, consulting boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymanreis/pseuds/Ozymanreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the only thing Jim had left for him to cling to. So he did, hoping that somehow it might fill the smallest fraction of the hole he'd left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Hope is Lost

**Author's Note:**

> #5: Seeking Solace

James Moriarty was dead. There was no way around it. Even if the bullet hadn't killed him upon release (and it had, Sherlock had checked extensively), the blood loss would've. 

Before jumping, Sherlock raided Moriarty's coat for any sign of this being a trick — a blood pack, fake bullets, a soundbox with a recording of a gunshot. But it wasn't there. 

All he found was Jim's mobile. Quickly tucking it in his own pocket as a keepsake, Sherlock proceeded to jump. 

It had been a few days, and the full weight of his archenemy's death was finally hitting him. Sherlock is hiding in one of Mycroft's designated "safe" houses, and the world is still convinced he's a dead fraud, so he has a bit of privacy to grieve. He's been palming the rectangular box in his pocket for a few hours now, unwilling to look at it. If he does, he'll have to acknowledge Jim's permanent absence. 

Clutching the phone in his near-translucent fingers, Sherlock scrolled through the last pictures Jim had taken. The last fifteen were of the detective in various locations. It was dumb, but they'd been playing a game to pass the time until they could meet again. Simply put, the objective was to take covert pictures of the other, just to prove they weren't always on guard. 

The most recent picture was on the roof. Somehow, Jim had managed to get a snapshot right as Sherlock opened the door. Looking at it, the detective envied his picture-twin: he didn't yet know his (possible?) boyfriend was about to die. He perpetually existed in a world where Moriarty was just fine. Unlike the present-day Sherlock, the picture will never need to ask _why_ Jim had to leave him. 

Burying his face against the screen, the detective weeps. 

It was the only thing Jim had left for him to cling to. So he did, hoping that somehow it might fill the smallest fraction of the hole he'd left. 

Suddenly, he felt the phone vibrate:

 

**Please don't cry, honey. It makes your pretty eyes puffy. -JM**


End file.
